Without Question
by glamur
Summary: COMPLETE! From the start of the trio's seventh year, Hermione's got a terrifying secret and finds the pain too much to bear. HGRW. This story is HBP compliant.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** All characters belong to the very talented JKR. I am writing this for fun, not profit.

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**Without Question**

**Chapter 1: I'll Take the Secret to my Grave**

_Severus Snape pushed Hermione Granger against the dungeon's cold, stone wall, casting Alohamora on his office door as he did so. This left the room in complete darkness, apart from a single candle burning on his desk. He moved his callused fingers on his left hand so he was grasping Hermione's neck. The girl could feel herself choke, but managed to remain conscious._

"_What the hell are you doing?"_

"_Silencio!"_

_Hermione couldn't utter a single sound after Snape's spell. Snape moved his face so that it was inches away from hers. His voice became a malevolent hiss, his face a pronounced sneer. His eyes bored into Hermione's own, his Legilmency skills telling him that she was shocked and frightened. Maybe he didn't need Legilmency to tell him that. He forced a glass of milky-white liquid down her throat. Hermione winced at the heavily bitter taste._

"_Never tell anyone about this, understand? If you do, I'll know. I'll bloody kill you."_

_Hermione had left her wand by her bed in her dormitory. She couldn't even scream out for help. All she could do was close her eyes as her once-trusted Potions master prised her virginity from her, their bodies joined together against her will. All she could do was wait for the pain to be over…

* * *

_

I gasped, hurting my neck as I shot up into a sitting position. It was a few seconds before I realised where I actually was. In a camp bed in Ginny's room. At the Burrow. Miles away from Hogwarts. I looked across to where Ginny lay, her sleeping untroubled. She didn't realise how lucky she was. I rubbed my neck surreptitiously as I reflected on my now-familiar nightmare. I hadn't had a night's sleep without it, without waking up cold and sweaty since...since the night the events in my dream took place in reality. I can remember every detail. I wish I could lock the memory up and throw away the key. But it doesn't work like that. I remember exactly what Snape said, what he did. Two days later, he killed Albus Dumbledore and showed his true colours as a Death Eater. I never got an explanation, an answer to the question: why? It didn't achieve anything. It caused someone agony, yet helped no one. As far as I can see.

But then destruction without purpose is what Death Eaters do, I suppose.

Even Ron's noticed how quiet I've been. I wish I could tell him and Harry what happened, but I am truly, utterly terrified to do so. I believe Snape would know if I explained to anyone about that night. And after seeing what he did to Dumbledore, I believe he'd kill me too.

I'll take the secret to my grave.

* * *

"Come on, Hermione - otherwise we'll all be late!"

Harry's voice sounded irritated as I put the finishing touches to my minimal make-up in cracked mirror hanging in the Weasley's kitchen.

"Just coming!"

I walked out the Burrow's back door to join my two friends walking down to Ottery St. Catchpole's village chapel, where Bill and Fleur's wedding was taking place. Most of the Weasley family was already there, with Charlie as Bill's best man and Ginny as one of Fleur's bridesmaids. I can't stand Fleur. She's all beauty and no brains, and the way Ron looks at her every time she comes into a room...

"You look great," said Harry, grinning. I gave a small smile back. Ron didn't say anything; he just stared at me with a strange look on his face. I was wearing a pale blue dress with a deep 'vee' neckline and a cut-on-the-bias skirt, with heels that Madam Malkin had dyed to match. I wasn't used to walking in them, and frequently stumbled over dips in the road or small stones.

We walked in companionable silence to the service (we'd almost definitely be spotted by a muggle from the village if we apparated). I felt so happy for Ron's brother, yet I felt so outside that happiness. Would my life ever get back on track? Two weeks ago, Snape had done something to me I thought even he wasn't capable of. Back when I thought that he'd redeemed himself after his years as a young man in Voldemort's service. Back when I thought he was a double agent – for us, not them. I felt dirty and used, empty inside. I shook myself mentally, forcing myself to think of something else. I watched Ron stop to tie his shoelace absent-mindedly. I could see the spire of the chapel poking above a beech tree. I was glad we were nearly there – my feet were killing me, why I always wear trainers.

We stepped inside the crowded chapel and sat in a panelled pew two rows behind Mr and Mrs Weasley and Fleur's parents. Fleur's mother was wearing such an enormous purple hat that it obscured the vision of anyone behind her. I shifted slightly so I could see, and amused myself by counting how many wooden carvings there were of angels on the ornate pulpit next to where Bill was standing at the front of the chapel. Boring, I know, but Harry and Ron seemed to be talking about Quidditch _again_, and I really couldn't care less.

"Prudence, look, someone thinks they saw Snape! Somewhere in Surrey, it says here…"

I jumped about a mile.

"Hermione, you Ok?" Ron asked in tones of concern.

I nodded, quickly turning away. An elderly witch I didn't know sitting on my right-hand side was showing her friend the front page of the Daily Prophet, with a large black-and-white photo of Snape scowling at whoever happened to be reading the paper. I suddenly felt dizzy and light-headed, and tried to regain my composure. My regular dream flashed through my mind…

…"_I'll bloody kill you."_

A loud Wedding March started to play on a magically charmed organ. I opened my eyes and felt sweat on my forehead slowly drip into them. No-one noticed however, as the entire congregation turned to see Fleur dramatically walk through impressive oak doors at the back of the chapel; accompanied by her bridesmaids Ginny and Fleur's sister, Gabrielle.

Fleur swept down the aisle wearing a long, white gown made of a gossamer material, clutching a bouquet of lilies in her hands. I glared at Ron, spying his open mouth and glazed-over expression out of the corner of my eye. Gabrielle and Ginny both looked gorgeous in matching pale gold dresses. Ginny glanced over at me and grinned, causing Harry to suddenly become intensely interested in the tiled floor. I wasn't that surprised when I heard they had broken up. I know Harry – he won't care about anything else until he's completely destroyed Voldemort. He wants to destroy Snape himself too. On the train ride back from Hogwarts, he told Ron and me exactly what happened, the night Dumbledore died for a fake Horcrux. I meant it when I assured him I'd help him as much as I could, find out who R.A.B. is. My rape has, if nothing else, made me even more determined to bring down Voldemort and every single one of his Death Eaters.

Every single one.

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Applause rang throughout the Weasley's garden as Charlie finished his best-man speech. After an announcement that dancing would begin in half-an-hour, and that the guests were free to circulate, soft jazz music began to play with a surprising calming effect on me. I scanned the Weasley's garden, trying to find Harry or Ron, but only seeing smartly dressed wedding guests occasionally tripping over stray gnomes. I loved that about the Weasley's house. There was a pleasing imperfectness to it, something that my parents – both hygiene-obsessive dentists – would never appreciate. Failing to locate either of my friends, I was considering sneaking into the house to read a book on medicinal potions I'd seen earlier, when Ginny came sprinting towards me, her hair coming out of its up-do, her stilettos frequently sinking into the grass.

"Hey, Hermione," she said breathlessly. "I was stuck in a conversation with Fleur, so made an excuse about needing the loo and got away. Honestly, you should hear her: 'I iz so 'appy today, when I walked down ze aisle I was preetier zan I 'ave ever been in my whole life…' I mean how vain can you get?" Ginny's interpretation of Fleur was a little spiteful, but very accurate. "So I thought I'd come and talk to you!"

"Sure," I said. "You haven't seen Harry or Ron, have you?"

"No, sorry." She had reddened slightly at the mention of Harry's name.

"Hey, it could be worse," I told her, the older sister she'd never had.

"I understand why he broke up with me, of course." I'd apparently correctly interpreted her thoughts. "But I really miss just _talking_ to him, Hermione!"

"If you only miss talking to him, he can't have been a great boyfriend!" I reply. We had a giggle. The first time I've laughed since…

"Hey, I know that it could be worse." Ginny interrupted my wayward thoughts. "Besides, what's going on with you? You've been so quiet all summer holiday, and I thought you looked a bit weird at the wedding ceremony. I know that what happened to Dumbledore was a bit of a shock, but…but I've never seen you so distant. Hermione?"

I'd already walked away.

"Hermione!" Ginny shouted across the garden.

"Just bugger off and leave me alone, alright? That it is, like, the millionth time someone has asked me that! There's nothing wrong with me!" Every single witch or wizard had turned to stare at Ginny and me. Spots of rain that had started to fall intermingled with the tears in my eyes as I stalked off.

"Well, really!" I heard Fleur's mother exclaim.

I hadn't meant to snap like that. The forbidden urge – my logical thinking – to tell someone, was eating at me inside. Besides, I've been so emotional lately. Even for a seventeen-year-old witch.

I gazed out of the tiny kitchen's only window. Harry and Ron seemed to be heading towards me, but Harry had been cornered by Gabrielle. She laughed at whatever his last comment was, touching him on the arm. Harry was unaware of Ginny looking on with a scowl worth of Sna…someone I used to know. Gabrielle seemed to be a mixture of two people I knew: with the looks of Fleur Delacour and the personality of Romilda Vane. Ron, looking a little put out that neither Fleur or Gabrielle was talking to him, he continued down the garden's path of paving slabs and opened the door to the room I was sitting in.

"Hi. This wedding's been fun, hasn't it?" he began sarcastically. "It's tipping it down with rain and by the look of things, Fred and George have stuck some Nosebleed Nougat into one of the mini sausage rolls. Mum's gonna be so mad…"

I continued to stare out of the window, but gave a wide grin as I noticed a tall male wizard in expensieve dress robes with blood running down his face.

I stretched my arms out to either side of me and Ron obligingly gave me a friendly hug. I breathed in, inhaling his scent that smelled, strangely enough, like fresh parchment.

He spoke with a serious tone as we broke apart. "There's something I've been wanting to ask you for a long time, Hermione. I don't know if it's we're at a wedding, or…"

Was Ron Weasley about to say what I thought he was about to say?

"Well…I was just wondering if…"

Unfortunately, I didn't hear the rest of what he said, because I was forced to run to the Weasley's downstairs toilet and vomited into the bowl. Great. Just what I needed.

"Hermione?" Ron's voice came uncertainly from the other side of the door.

"I'm fine, Ron…I'll talk to you later."

That was so embarrassing! If he was going to ask what he sounded like he was going to ask, that's probably wasn't the answer he was looking for. Who am I kidding? Ron would never ask _me_ out on a date. He certainly wouldn't ask outright. I'm dreaming. 'Him and me' is something that could never happen. He's my best friend!

That _was_ strange though. I haven't been feeling ill. I haven't felt like I'm going to be sick.

I must have just eaten too much cake.

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A/N: I have already completed this story, so I will not be abandoning this fic. I will update this about every three days or so (there are three more chapters and an epilogue to go after this first part). As always, constructed criticism is appreciated. Please review!

Best, glamur xxx


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** All characters belong to JKR.

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**Chapter 2: A Realisation**

Over the next two weeks, I got next-to-no sleep. I stressed about my 'know-it-all' brain failing me on the mystery of R.A.B., then woke up in a cold sweat once I'd eventually relaxed and nodded off. I instead used the small hours as space to think with clarity that you can only achieve when there's nobody else around to bother you.

Over the last fortnight, Harry, Ron and me had left the Burrow (Mrs Weasley had been so concerned about my health after I had thrown up, it had become more than a little annoying) returned to Harry's aunt and uncle's house (for the least amount of time that anyone could possibly get away with) and already spent two nights at Godric's Hollow.

It feels weird being here. The place has been uninhabited since Harry's parents had died sixteen years ago, and apart from the fact that the interior was in an even worse state than Grimmauld Place was, as soon as you walked through the door you felt as though you'd come to see someone on their death-bed. Harry didn't want to move in to Sirius's old house, so he decided that Godric's Hollow was the best base available to us to search for Voldemort's remaining Horcruxes. I was surprised to say the least. He's spent most of the time we've already been here just walking between the rooms, not saying a word. He actually found his father's old eleven-inch, mahogany wand. Harry displayed it on the sitting room's granite mantelpiece; I have reverence for him that he has the strength to come here. If I was in his situation, I'm not sure if I could.

I've been keeping myself busy. I'm splitting my time between cleaning this place so that it's fit for human habitation, and doing what I do best: scanning reference books for information about a part of Voldemort's soul. Books have never failed me yet. I've been scrounging books off everyone I've met, even taking some of Mrs Weasley's from the Burrow.

Harry and Ron keep saying how concerned they are about me. They keep nagging at me to slow down, or to eat more. I _have _been under-eating. Harry and Ron obviously don't know about this, but even my period hasn't shown this month, and it was due a week ago. It's to be expected I guess. I've heard stress and malnutrition can make them stop for a while.

I sat up a little straighter in bed, shivering. Godric's Hollow always felt so eerie, so cold. Chill spread through the cracks in the windows, rushed down the fireplace flues with a threatening whoosh. I waved my wand in a sweeping motion above my head and cast a warming charm. It didn't improve the situation much. Weird how icy the weather's been here really, considering it's early August. I rub my eyes. Tomorrow I'd sort out some of the fireplaces so that they could be lit. I know Harry was going for a meeting with Rufus Scrimgeour the next day, probably to refuse to be his 'mascot' again. He asked if I wanted to come, but I decided I'd rather stay behind, get some things done.

I stretched, wondered across the silent landing, bar a creaky floorboard I stood on, and lay my head against Harry and Ron's bedroom doorway, letting the splintered wood catch my cheek slightly. I marvelled again at the fact that Harry didn't even mind that I was sleeping in Harry's old nursery – with Ron and him staying in Harry's parent's room. Then again, I remember him saying once that he didn't even miss his parents that much, because he never really knew them. He's got a point, I guess.

Most of the stuff we had now was transfigured from pointless objects, or conjured from thin air if one of us could manage it. I found magically altered beds were never quite as comfy as real ones, food seemingly appearing from nowhere never had the same taste as 'real' meals. But there you go.

I shut my eyes for a few seconds, just to rest. Not to fall asleep.

_Snape grabbed a small vial made of crystal and shoved it in Hermione's face. He forced the opening into her mouth, her body made to swallow the liquid inside. The milky-white potion inside tasted vile, tangy and bitter. She froze with terror as Snape looked straight into her eyes, her chestnut-brown orbs turning to pools of frightened shock…_

My eyes opened with a snap. Oh my God…

I ran downstairs with an urgent haste, stumbling over cracks in the floor, not caring who I woke up. I grabbed a leather-bound tome, with pages of ancient parchment, that I had borrowed off Mrs Weasley – the one about medicinal potions. I rifled through to page four-hundred-and-ninety-seven, and paused to read the bottom paragraph that I'd already read once before.

'…_This fertility enhancer features rare ingredients and is very difficult to make. It is seldom used except for couples with a very small chance of ever conceiving children naturally, due to the fact that it is the most powerful potion known of its kind in existence and little is known about its long-term affects on the mother or baby. The potion is slightly translucent and milky-white in colour, due to the inclusion of Mooncalf milk at the final stage of brewing. Another reason that it is usually only recommended to couples with very low fertility is because of its potential side-effects, which can include the baby being born prematurely.'_

I started to hyperventilate heavily and collapsed in a heap onto the uneven, uncarpeted floor. He couldn't have. He _wouldn't _have. Why the hell would Severus Snape want a child?

_An heir, maybe_, whispered a small voice inside my head.

This can't be happening. I can't be pregnant.

Can I?

The next morning, I woke up with even darker circles under my eyes than yesterday, and a sore back from sleeping on the floor. I sat up and yawned widely, to find Ron standing about two feet away pouring milk he'd transfigured into a gigantic bowl of cereal. Seems men can never have too much to eat.

"Hey, Hermione," he said, sitting on a moth-eaten rug next to where I had apparently spent the night. "I was a bit worried when I couldn't see you in your room, but turned out you'd just decided that the floor felt comfier instead! Harry's already gone to the Ministry," he finished by way of explanation.

We sat in silence, my memory of our conversation that ended with me throwing up still fresh in my mind. Ron's ears reddened slightly as he opened his mouth again.

"You know what I was going to say at the Burrow…" he said uncertainly, scratching the back of his neck. "Would you? Like to…" He trailed off and looked away, embarrassed.

I've never felt worse in my whole life than I'd been feeling recently, and I'd wanted Ron to ask me out since third year. This could potentially be the pick-me-up I needed. Yet, after what had happened with Snape, I've felt like I could ever kiss a guy again, with the irrational fear that his skin would pale, his eyes darken to infinite tunnels, somehow denser than normal black.

_This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity_, said the voice inside my head again. I glanced over at _Medicinal Potions_ and felt my chest tighten.

There's got be something in relationships that's better that what I'd experienced with Victor Krum, a deeper connection, an understanding. And I couldn't spend my whole life refusing to move on…

"That'd be great, Ron." He breathed a sigh. I gave him a quick kiss on the lips, tracing my fingers up his neck and smiling at him. He grinned back.

I don't care how far my relationship goes with him.

I'm still keeping my deepest, darkest secret of all from him. I'll never tell anyone. I can't.

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A/N: Again, I should have the next part up in about three days. Big thanks to dancerrdw, isnani, IsabellaPaige, 99 Red Balloons and EruditeWitch who all reviewed! Anyone who has just read this, more reviews would be appreciated...

Best, glamur xxx


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: **I don't own any of it. Well, not very much of it anyway.

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**Chapter 3: Forget The Past**

It had been nearly four months since we moved into Godric's Hollow now. Quite a bits happened in that time. I've stopped throwing up in the mornings, which is good. I've also developed a craving for chocolate. I was never a girl who cared too much about her looks most of the time, obviously, but the rate I've been chomping through Chocolate Frogs – I've noticed my jeans feel tighter, anyway. I've _got _to stop eating so much of the stuff, though Harry and Ron are pleased that I seem to have my appetite back.

Besides, I don't think I could be pregnant. Two days after finding that section on fertility enhancers in _Medicinal Potions_, I found a different milky-white potion in another book which makes the drinker experience a mild illness, which explains the vomiting. _That _seems more like something Snape would give me, surely? To stop me helping Harry with the Horcruxes, I guess. And the chocolate's making me fat. An explanation for everything. Time to get on with my life.

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I appeared with a sharp crack as I returned from apparating to Hogsmeade for more of Honeyduke's Finest Milk Chocolate (three bars). It was the the beginning of November by now, with mist from breeding Dementor's ever more apparent, setting a rather melancholy atmosphere over Godric's Hollow. I stepped over the threshold expecting Harry and Ron to still be asleep, but I could definitly hear them from the living toom. They sounded elated, shouting exitedly to each other about something. They both ran over to where I was standing, Ron knocking by shopping out of my arms as he embraced me in a tight hug.

"Hermione," Harry exclaimed excitedly, "We've got a lead on R.A.B.! Regulus Black! I just can't belive I didn't think of it before…"

"Er…who?" I wasn't trying to bring them down, seriously. This was honestly a name I hadn't come across – something that doesn't happen very often, I'll admit.

"Sirius's little brother? I probably didn't tell you about him then – sorry Hermione…" Harry adds hastily, catching the annoyed glare on my face. "But in a nutshell, he used to be a death eater, then got murdered by Voldemort. Sirius said he was cowardly, but now I'm not entirely sure he got the full measure of him…"

I came to a realisation. "Oh my God, the locket that no-one could open in Grimmauld place? Is that…"

"Could be." Harry gave a wry smile. However, we threw it away, and no-one has any idea where it is…"

"Ah. Still, a great first step!" I tried to remain optomistic. Don't worry Harry, we'll find it."

"Thanks, Hermione. I'm going to Grimmauld place right now, just in case I can find out where the locket is by going there. You two want to come?" Harry asked, turning to me and Ron.

"Nah," Ron answered, with a tone of sincerity, but also with a small smile appearing on his lips. "Me and Hermione have our first proper date in a couple of hours…I wouldn't miss it for the world!" He grinned at me. I'll give it to him – the boy may sometimes have the emotional capabilities of a flobberworm, but at other times he can be really sweet.

Harry sighed, with the air of someone experiencing the inevitable, and stepped over to the fireplace.

"Grimmauld Place!" he shouted into the now-emerald flames, and disapeared.

"I'll see you down here in an hour-and-a-half?" I suggest to Ron. He nods as I head upstairs, and we smile at each other. Seems to be happening a lot lately. I used to feel nauseated when I saw couples grinning foolishly at one another all the time, but somehow it doesn't seem annoying when _you're _with your dream man…

He's certainitly made me feel a lot happier, anyway – even if half the time it feels like we're still just friends, which is fine, but our physical relationship still hasn't got passed chaste kissing and holding hands. Maybe our first date will change all that. I walked into by bedroom slowly, taking a bar of milk chocolate of my bedside table and devouring it in one bite. My cravings still haven't gone. I'm still gaining weight. If I carry on, then even Ron won't want me. I gave a long sigh, opened my wardrobe, and picked out a dress to wear tonight.

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"Wow, Hermione…I mean, wow!"

"I smile stupidly for what seemed like the twenteith time today as I slide down the staircase in Godric's Hollow, my stance radiating confidence. I was wearing a pale pink, backless dress that I'd bought several months ago, this being the first chance I've had to wear it. It had a halterneck neckline that I had fastened magically in a bow underneath my hair, and the floaty skirt fell to just above my knee. I felt incredible in this outfit, like I could achive anything.

Ron looked great too, in well-tailored grey trouseres and a white shirt with long sleeves. I noticed he'd left the first three buttons unfastened.

"Where are we going?"

"Madam Amethyst's," Ron answered.

I was impressed, to say the least. I know that it's _the _place to see and be seen, as well as serving plenty of stylish and expensieve food. Holding tightly on to Ron's waist, we appear from nowhere just inside the Leaky Cauldron.

"Sorry, my apparation's occasionly a bit off…" Ron tailed off. I giggled.

"That's OK."

We walked in companiable silence towards the restaurant. I jumped as as a tall man dressed in black sweeps past. It's not him. Suddenely every wizard striding past me seemed to grow long greasy hair or erupt a large nose. I subconciously rubbed my rapidly-expanding belly, rushing through the doors of Madam Amythyst's without waiting for Ron or for the doorman to show me through the glass entrance. I started to breathe slowly to calm myself. I was being absouloutly ridiculous. I eventually joined my date after visiting the loos, still feeling a little depressed.

"Are you OK, Hermione?"

My smile that was meant to be reassuring looked like a false, fixed portrait smile when I caught my reflection in one of the many gilded mirrors hanging on the restaurant's walls.

"Fine, Ron, I'm fine…"

I gazed around, enjoying the sumptuous feel of the place. The walls were pannelled in a deep oak, the matching floor covered in expensieve rugs. On the other side of the restaurant I spotted Celestia Warbeck and her husband, and I _think _itwas a group of Wimbouldon Wasps players that were making loud, raucous jokesat the bar. I'd never really been anywhere this posh before, and felt excited about spending the evening with Ron.

A waiter came over to our table, dressed in a white shirt and black trousers with a bow-tie tied tightly around his neck.

"May I take your order?"

Ron answered first. "Yeah, I think I'll have the fish…"

* * *

"Come on, Hermione, please…" Ron whispered in my ear. "You don't want to die a virgin do you? We're all in danger now."

Ron continued to plant small kisses down my neckline and try to untie my halterneck dress. I felt his erection pressing hard against my thigh. I felt like I wanted this so much, but it was soon…too soon. Little did my boyfriend know that I'd already lost my virginity. With this thought in my mind, tears glistened in my eyes.

"Ron, no!" I exclaimed, as he finally succeeded in undoing my dress. "This is too soon, I have to tell you something…"

"..._I'll bloody kill you!"_

"What, Hermione?"

"It's too soon … in our relaionship. This is our first date!"

"But I thought you wanted this? Please, Hermione?"

I sighed as Ron slid a silver bracelet off my left wrist that I'd been wearing. I _was _sure I'd wanted this too, but I couldn't. I'd had the worst sexual experience any girl could have, yet what if Ron went off me because of this? It may had been our first date, but I'd known him for six years. And…how many times have I promised myself I'd move on? This would work, surely?

I've felt so miserable since the end of the school year. I wanted to feel the sexual ecstacy that everyone talks about. If it's the centre of a relationship in books, magazines, films…it's got to be the best way to make me better.

I undressed Ron with a silent wave of my wand, our naked bodies shivering from raw anticipation. Then I waited to feel the incredible connection I've heard everyone talk about, waited to feel rapture from sex, not pain.

Wanting to feel anything but pain.


	4. Chapter 4 and Epilogue

**Disclaimer:** Still don't own it.

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**Chapter 4: My Secret's Out**

It's three months now since I started seeing Ron. I've been feeling so much better recently, since the start of January. It's amazing how sex can give you an incredible emotional boost! I feel at eaze with Ron now – our first time felt rushed and inexperienced, but it's worked out better over time. Even the Horcrux hunt is improving – we've managed to track down Slytherin's real locket and destroy it, and Harry went to see Zachiarus Smith about his grandmother Hepzibar Smith's Hufflepuff cup. There's only one thing wrong.

There's no denying I'm pregnant now.

I accepted it a month ago, when I went through a period of eating almost nothing at all and still grew fatter. I've been pretending to eat crisps, chocolate and sweets in fornt of Harry and Ron so they think it's because I'm over-eating. I've got two months before _it's _due, anyway. Then I don't know what I'm going to do.

Harry tentivley commented on my weight gain the other day, pointing out that if I ate less "Um…sugar and stuff, then you might look a bit nicer again, Hermione." I stormed off in a huff. I can't believe he said that! If he knew the real reason… Soon, Ron will have gone off me, I'm sure. If this is the way mens minds work, then anyone who isn't six foot tall, six stone and size six is doomed to live the life of a spinster. I'm blowing things out of proportion of course, but even if I'm feeling better generally, I looked at myself in the mirror yesterday and felt so depressed. I've blown up into a huge balloon, my ankles have swelled, and I always feel tired. I can't believe Snape did this to me. I don't know what I'm going to do with a baby. My nightmares are as strong as ever. The memory hasn't faded. I even had to say to Harry I couldn't help him on an attempt to kill Wormtail, because that day, I felt like I couldn't even move.

I've got another date with Ron tonight, even if it's only a Cannons/Harps Quidditch game. I wouldn't miss it for the world.

* * *

Harry and Ron have gone out to Diagon Alley, leaving me to sit on our only sofa and rifle through Witch Weekly. I recall my date with Ron last night and smiled. We'd put this sofa to better use than I was now, certainly. Though there was a rather embarrassing moment when he found my prominent pregnant bump hard to keep out of the way. I keep wondering why he hasn't dumped me yet. I can only thank God that neither of my friends have had sex-ed – or know anything about pregnant women.

Shit. I felt something run down my leg. My water's broke.

I was having my baby. _His _baby. I started to panic. I had no idea what the hell I'm supposed to do. Just as I felt a lurch in my stomach, Harry and Ron came running, looking elated.

"Hermione we've…Oh my God. Ron, I told you she was pregnant! You didn't believe me, did you?"

"I'm not…" I began feebly, but it looked like Harry knew more about pregnancy that I'd given him credit for.

"How far apart are the contractions?" Harry was shouting at me.

"How the hell should I know?" I replied, agitated. I know. He was only trying to help.

"Ron, we've got to get her to St Mungo's now!" I turned to look at Ron for the first time since the two men had got back. He seemed paralysed, only able to stare at me with a shocked and disgusted look on his face. Oh God. He thinks I've cheated on him. He turned his back on Harry and me and started to run upstairs.

"Ron," Harry muttered to him, annoyed. "I can't take her on my own!"

"Fine." He continued to glare at me.

I walked over with difficulty out of the front door and apparated to St Mungos Hospital, supported my Harry and Ron. My contractions were already very painful.

What am I going to tell Ron?

* * *

Half an hour later, I was sitting comfortably in a pristine hospital bed in a private labour room, with a pain in my stomach that wouldn't go away. I kept stealing furtive glances at Ron who was scowling like a small child who had been told they couldn't have their favourite toy to play with. I sighed and nudged Harry, who kept looking at Ron as well.

"Er…I'm just going to the tea rooms for something to eat. I'll be back soon." Harry said, taking my hint. Ron made a motion to follow him out of the door, but Harry pushed his best friend back and whispered through clenched teeth, "Stay here."

"Hermione, you owe me an explanation," Ron said angrily. He was talking to the floor instead of me. I felt terrible.

"Ron, I'm so sorry. It's…yours." I don't know what made me say that.

Ron hugged me protectively, making my eyes fill with tears.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't know what your reaction would be," I invented hastily. "I didn't want you to leave me. I was going to have an abortion, but I couldn't go through with it".

"It's OK, Hermione. I'll stay with you. We'll raise the child – our child together. Hermione?"

"What?" I answered.

"I…I love you."

"Ow, shit!" I suddenly clasped Ron's hand, nearly breaking his fingers. Another contraction!"

He said he loved me! I wished I could have replied something more romantic than 'Ow, shit' though. Ron's flashed from childish immaturity to a mature man I can love in the space of five minutes. He even seems much more eager to help me with my labour. Maybe he'll never even find out the truth…

"What were you and Harry going to tell me before?" I asked. "You two seemed pleased before you saw that my water had broken".

"Oh…" Ron took a few seconds to come out of his daze and realised what I was talking about. "Well, me and Harry accidentally apparated quite a long way from Diagon Alley, where we were supposed to be going. When it started to pour down with rain we ran to a cave we were near, but I turned out You-Know-Who was using it as a hideout! He escaped, but we managed to capture a couple of death eaters, and Harry – he murdered Snape!" Ron had resumed the same face of joy that his face held in Godric's Hollow.

I gasped. Harry had finally made Snape pay dearly for the murder of Albus Dumbledore. He was dead. I couldn't believe it. I savoured the feeling of relief that swept over me like an icy wave. He was dead. _He was dead.

* * *

_

"Hermione, push, honey. Push!"

Joyce Wright, a Maternity Healer with short brown hair and a permanently sympathetic expression, was bending over my body, urging me on. I was twisted in pain. I never knew anything could hurt so badly. I felt physically and mentally tired. Harry and Ron could only watch me with slightly freaked-out looks on their faces from two spindly wooden chairs in the corner.

Finally a tiny, red, writhing, screaming baby emerged from between my legs. To me, the baby looked far from beautiful. Joyce took my baby to clean and wrap up in white cloth. Ron and Harry came over to me smiling. Ron rested his hands on my shoulders.

"Be careful," he called over to Joyce. "The baby's been born very prematurely."

"I don't think he is, Ron," Joyce smiled. "Your baby boy seems perfectly healthy, and as any newborn should look after nine months in the womb". She handed my new baby boy to me. Ron looked at me, scowling. Shit. The baby would _have_ to be premature to be his. I looked away from him and instead looked at my son for the first time, a bastard that'd caused me so much anguish. Shock rippled through my body. My secret's out.

His skin was deathly pale, much paler than Ron's or mine. His nose looked deformed, it was so large on his tiny face. His pitch black eyes bored into me and seemed to never end, like eerie dark tunnels. His hair was neither brown or red, but a black even denser than the colour of his eyes. There was no mistaking the father of this child. He was the spitting image of his father.

"Ron, I…" Ron had already turned away.

"Snape," he whispered.

"Ron, he," I stopped and sniffed, tears already falling from my eyes on to my child's skin.

"Ron, he raped me. Nine months ago. He's dead, there's nothing I can do."

"I can't believe he would do that," Harry said, shocked. "Use you, so he can have an heir…"

"He used a fertility potion," I explained. "That's why my baby's got dark eyes, not blue. Newborn babies are supposed to be blue, I think". Joyce nodded.

"I'm not sure if I believe you, Hermione," Ron began. Harry stepped back, shoving Ron slightly towards me. "You've already lied to me twice."

"Ron, do you really think I'd have consensual sex with Snape?" I snapped. We all looked away from each other and didn't speak for a while. I looked down at my child.

I didn't feel attached to him. I didn't think he was beautiful. I certainly didn't love him, and I know that's not how I'm supposed to feel. Snape may be dead, but if I give him to an adoption service everyone will know what happened…

Joyce interrupted our silent thoughts. "Do you have a name?" she asked, turning to me.

"I'm not sure yet," I answer.

"Well, for now we'll put him down as Baby Boy Granger then," she said, taking my child so that I could rest and walking away.

"Baby Boy Granger-Weasley please, Joyce." Ron smiled at me in gratitude and gave me a warm hug. There was so much that I wanted to ask him about, but I was so exhausted, I could only fall asleep.

* * *

**Epilogue: Eleven Years On**

I looked across at my husband Ron, smiling slightly as I watched Seth walk towards the Hogwarts Express dressed in the school's uniform, ready to join his fellow first years arriving. Raised by his true father, he could have been a misfit. But by shrinking his overlarge nose and reminding him to regularly wash his now-short hair I'd dyed a dark brown, he managed to look very different to Severus Snape. Did I change him for his benefit or for mine? I guess I didn't have purely Seth's welfare in mind.

I think of Seth as Ron's child more than I thought of him as Snape's. Ron adopted him as soon as we married. Together, we've grown to love him. When Seth was one, Ron proposed, fresh from the final battle. Many people had fought side by side that day, all to help Harry bring down the worst dark wizard that had ever lived. It's not talked about too often now, but when Lord Voldemort appears in people's conversation, wizards and witches finally all say his name with ease.

After the last battle, all our lives finally took a turn for the better. All three of us got an order of Merlin, first class. Harry married Ginny a year later, and after working for a while as an auror in the Ministry, got promoted to Minister for Magic last year. He's expecting his first child with Ginny in a couple of months.

Ron and me married. Ron quickly found work in the Department of Magical Games and Sports. I stayed in a pokey flat we'd bought together and looked after Seth. But when Hogwarts finally opened again this year, with Minerva McGonagall as Headmistress, she asked me to fill a teaching post that was vacant – with the offer of a much better house on school grounds. So ironically, starting today, I'm teaching … potions.

The name I chose for my child means 'substitute or compensation'. Does the joy that Seth brings Ron and me make up for for that long, painful year I endured when I was eighteen?

Without question.

* * *

A/N: The End! Please R&R :-)

Best, glamur xxx


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